Tag: Children

Unexpected summer surprises

by Allie P., posted in Book Stuff and Publishing News, Life as I know it

I barely recognized the boy who walked through my door. It was my eldest son returning from yet another outing with a set of his grandparents, an event that has become so commonplace over this summer break that it barely makes sense to unpack his bag. His hair was now more white than yellow and his normally pale skin was brown. It was only the tell-tale scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and up the side of his cheek that convinced me that it wasn’t some random changeling.

Summer Camp Agenda

“We’re happy you are home,” I told him, which was a massive understatement. He had only been gone this last time for three days and yet, unlike his first solo trip, this one felt like forever. I had expected to miss my son, but I was taken aback by how much I had missed the noise, the mess, the smells, the sheer chaos incarnate that is boy this summer.

“I’m happy to be home too!” he said with the gap-toothed grin I remember. His big boy teeth sure are taking their time coming back in.

“You know, you won’t have any more trips except for one last one with mommy and daddy before school starts.”

“I just want to sleep in my own bed.”

He’s had a great time with every single outing, but I can’t blame him for the sentiment. I wouldn’t mind travel nearly so much if I only had a teleportation machine to ensure that I got to sleep in my bed at night. Sure, the hospitality industry might suffer, but I would get such a better night’s sleep, and sleep makes me happy, which makes me more productive, and if more people were productive, wouldn’t that help the local economy – but I digress.

His school will resume in less than one month. Summer is almost officially over as far as we are concerned. After the bags were in, I went outside to check on my garden. As I stepped off the porch, a bit of white caught my eye in the hanging planter. It was a strawberry bud.

budding strawberryStrawberry season in North Carolina begins in April and runs through the month of May. It is pretty much over as soon as the temperatures begin to rise, and we had hit triple digits in June. After the heat wave in June, I hadn’t even bothered to care for the planter beyond the occasional watering when the leaves wilted even after temperatures stabilized in the 90s (or 32+ for my non-US friends). The season was definitely over. But there it was. A flower, with another stem beside attached to the green triangular shape of a forming berry.

No one told my strawberry plant that its season was over. Or if someone did, the plant didn’t listen.

Another blog I read posted an amusing piece this week briefly touching on the subject of acceptance. Acceptance of others for their differences, acceptance for the liberties the film industry takes with history for the sake of drama, and also acceptance that more than likely only half of winter’s audience would take the time to read the message.

“Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, but a thing to be achieved.” – William Jennings Bryant

I accept that there is a season for all things, but I know I can’t fall into the trap of doing nothing while waiting. The easy season may come and go, but I can (and do regularly) dance like no one’s watching (or write like no one is reading). Who knows, but if the conditions are right, the work I do today just might yet bear fruit.

Book update. I’ve gotten most of my beta reader’s comments in and am in the process of making yet another round of final tweaks and read-throughs. It is difficult to express exactly how very grateful I am for my reader’s feedback. I believe my story is significantly stronger for their suggestions and I am now even more excited to release it to the public in the not to distant future.

 

 

Breathe in and breathe out

by Allie P., posted in Book Stuff and Publishing News, Life as I know it

We were swimming at a local pool featuring a pair of water slides which were accessible from a single tower. After watching a series of children enjoy the ride, I asked my eldest, “What do you think? Do you want to give it a try?”

“Do you think I can?”

Funny fish meme
Click images for attribution

Kiddo swims like a fish. By that I mean he can paddle quite effectively with his whole body underwater, but flops and flails about if he attempts to swim with his head above the surface. While delaying answering, I noticed that the pool depth at the slide area wasn’t any deeper than where we were. My eldest favors his father in personality, but even more so in appearance. No one will mistake him for one of Santa’s elves. Standing in the pool next to me, his head and shoulders were well above the water.

“Sure honey. When you get to the bottom, all you have to do is put your feet down.”

“I don’t know…” I could tell he was nervous about the slide’s height.

“I’ll go with you!” I said.

That was all the convincing it took. Splash. After struggling for a few moments to escape the water slide’s current, Kiddo took a breath, planted his feet, and smiled as he said, “let’s do it again!”

Kiddo saw his brother watching and asked, “Can LT go down the slide too?”

I try to limit my quasi-endangering of offspring to less than one child per day (most days). “LT has to learn how to swim first.” LT isn’t tall enough for the slide either, but it got the hubby and I thinking. It was probably time to enroll LT in swim class, and Kiddo could likely use a refresher as well.

The day of their first class, Kiddo went with his instructor to one end of the pool while his brother followed me to another. By coincidence, LT and his teacher share the same name, but rather than this endearing the teacher to LT, LT went the way of TV’s Highlander (“in the end, there can be only one!”) From the moment he stepped on the swim platform, it was clear he did not trust this person who dared assume his name. He began screaming as I tried to sneak away, “I scared! I scared!” and LT’s voice carries (so now you know what that sound was on Monday).

Stewie Griffin

I froze, looking at his instructor in alarm, but his teacher hadn’t flinched. I guess when you teach pre-schoolers you get used to stranger danger (now scratching off children’s swim coach from my list of career opportunities). He asked LT to put his face in the water and blow bubbles. LT could do that! Splash. Bubble. Bubble. Spit. Splash. “Okay, LT, try again. This time without getting the water in your mouth.”

LT was happy mimicking a drinking bird and forgot his fear until his instructor asked him to try something else. The screams resumed. We only made it through the class with our sanity intact by stopping and repeating the bubble/breathing exercise in between each new challenge (but where was the first place he wanted to go after class? Another pool).

This summer hasn’t just been trips to the pool or family vacations. I’ve also been querying. I enjoy being a member of the independent authors’ community, but the idea of becoming a hybrid author is appealing too. A cash advance or additional help in the form of a professional final edit and cover design would allow me a larger budget for promotion. I don’t mind reduced royalties provided it is with the right partner. I decided to test the waters by putting myself and this manuscript out there.

Pushing the send button on the first query was terrifying, but as time passed I found myself feeling rather zen about the whole process. I’ve published independently before and can do so again if that proves best for me and my work. I know I can choose not to move forward with them as easily as can with me. When the response arrived (which was very supportive, but a pass), I accepted it for what it was – a step in the process and a learning opportunity (que sera, sera). I took a breath and hit send on another query.

“A journey of one thousand miles must begin with a single step.” – Lao Tzu

“The first step is to just breathe.” – Bobby Umar

 

Bugs and other blends

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

My house has been bugged.

No solicitation sign
I need to make this sign (Image from Pinterest)

It all started last weekend. The weather was lovely. Not too hot, not too cold. The hubby was working diligently in the garage with our eldest as first assist while LT and I drew chalk pictures on the driveway. It was perfect.

Obviously this scene of domestic bliss had to be interrupted. A man with a clipboard walked up to inform us that his company was in the area actively treating homes such as ours for any number of pests. I sent the door to door salesman on his way, saying “I don’t mind the occasional bug.”

And that’s where I went wrong. I should have learned by now to never, ever offer up an invitation to Mother Nature (she has quite the sense of humor). Either that or the salesman possessed mind powers and a suit in his van similar to the one Marvel will show in Ant-Man. In any case, as we were readying the boys for bed I noticed a large brown spot in the corner of a wall where hallway meets ceiling. The spot then moved.

Bleah! The hubby was promptly summoned to get rid of the creature while I continued with the bedtime routine (I am all for making sacrifices). My eldest saw the action and called out, “don’t kill it!” He wanted to add the little vermin to his collection. A collection of bugs I might add he has because of lovely person he refers to as his Nai Nai, his other maternal grandmother, and my stepmom.

image from wikipedia
What she lacks in maternal instinct she makes up for in style (image from Wikipedia)

Popular culture will often portray stepmothers as wicked creatures determined to insert a wedge between children of a prior union and the children’s father. They have a beauty that is only skin deep. Self-serving, often jealous, and never ever to be trusted, they are the perfect villains in children’s stories (i.e. Snow White, Cinderella, Hansel & Gretel – depending on what version you read, etc.) Some of my dad’s girlfriends (from my perspective as a child) could have easily fallen into that category had the relationship grown more serious. But luckily, my dad eventually met a woman who understood that there was still a “mom” in the word stepmom.

It couldn’t have been easy for her, marrying into our family. We were three young girls with one awesome mom already. Our things were stored in dad’s house long before any of hers were (even if we only played with them on the weekends), but somehow she managed to find a place. Not by trying to replace our mom, or by trying to be our friend (we were too young for that), but by choosing to act like a parent who just happened to miss the early years (no 3am feedings or dirty diapers – darn! why didn’t I think of that?)

She has loved my boys (and my nieces and nephews) since the day they were born. As far as they are concerned, there is no ‘step’ in their family. She is just another limb on their family tree. She has also spoiled them as much as any other grandparent might. One of these gifts is a clear plastic box designed to collect and store bugs. It’s the kind of gift that makes me, as a parent, question what I did as a child to deserve such ‘generosity.’ My son, on the other hand, thinks it is fantastic and has since set out to fill it with whatever he can find in the yard (or, in this case, hallway). Thus far, we have been blessed with pet stink bugs, snails, and centipedes (the horror!) I might see a box of creepy crawlies, but he sees them as new friends, all thanks to his Nai Nai.

The hallway bug in this story ‘got away’ (to a beautiful porcelain home complete with indoor plumbing) and won’t be joining the ‘family’ anytime soon (so sad), but my stepmom has shown my sons that when you let it, love can find a way no matter its origin.

Happy Mother’s Day

To wait or not to wait, that is the question

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

The number 4 stares back at me on the computer screen.

It is my eldest son’s waitlist position for the school he is currently attending and the number meant he had only moved up one position in a month’s time. When I first learned that he was placed on a waitlist I thought there must be a mistake. I mean he is already a student there. Why wouldn’t there be a seat with his name on it? I called the school and was told I would have to talk to the county representative managing student assignment, which I did.

The county assured me they would look into the matter.

To be fair, everyone I have dealt with thus far has been extremely polite and considerate, my son’s placement is nothing personal. Which is the problem. The existing system is based on numbers whether they be data points or funding dollars, rather than students and their families.

The county school system lists a multitude of options. There are public schools operating on the traditional calendar, charter schools, magnet schools, and schools that have year round calendars. Thus far, the year round calendar has been a wonderful experience. We only had to plan for three weeks of additional care at a time and could space out our vacations accordingly minimizing the impact on our jobs. At the end of each three to five-week break, my son would be itching to get back to his friends and could actually still remember many of the lessons he learned before the end of the break.

Therefore I was annoyed to learn that the county had arbitrarily placed my son in a school operating on a traditional calendar with a three-month summer break, especially at a school not even fully constructed yet. I was invited to apply to transfer my son back to his existing school. Five minutes after the web portal was opened, I had uploaded my request. A counter at the bottom told me I was the ninth request of the morning.

At the time, I wasn’t too concerned he wouldn’t eventually get back in. I had done some reading on the selection criteria and everything seemed to indicate that his transfer request would only be a formality.WCPSS School Selection Criteria

I later learned that the site left off some small print. The county is trying to fill the new school and this guarantee was really just for rising fourth or fifth graders. My annoyance turned quickly to anger mixed with helplessness. I had to watch as my son’s eyes welled up as I told him he might not be with his friends next year and unless four other children are placed elsewhere, and couldn’t do a thing about it.

I try to make the best of any situation I can’t fully control. I am a firm believer that things work out the way they are supposed to, but I also believe you have to take a stand from time to time, which is why I am now struggling. It’s a lot harder to be easy going when it’s your child being affected. Should I continue to fight for where I think my son belongs because it makes the most sense for our family today? Or is this a sign that I need to embrace other changes?

red or blue pill
“You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.” – from the Matrix, image courtesy of flickr

I am a fan of the show Mad Men, now in its last season. I will avoid spoilers for those who haven’t yet seen this week’s episode, but the entire episode was about the life not lived. It was purely coincidental that I watched it the night I learned that my son is now number four on the list. It is also coincidental that the number four is the least lucky number in the Chinese language. It is a good thing I am not overly superstitious…or is it?

But what if it isn’t coincidence? What if, like my son, I have been stuck on a waitlist, only unlike him, my number is being called? What if the universe has practically put up a neon sign and I’m just too illiterate to read it? If so, how long will the universe wait before moving on to the next in line?

“If you want something you’ve never had, you’ve got to do something you’ve never done” – Thomas Jefferson

But what do you do when you’d also like to keep the something you had?

Fake it until you make it

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it, Personal Favorites

We took a quick road trip over the weekend. The boys demanded a movie within seconds of the engine starting. We have a pile of DVDs ready for just such an emergency however we’ve played them so many times now that the hubby and I can repeat the dialogue by heart. Therefore we weren’t exactly thrilled to fire up the player. We told them they were going to have to wait until we reached the interstate.

We have two sets of headphones that go along with the entertainment system so that backseat passengers can listen to their movie while the front seat listens to the radio. Unfortunately my two-year old is too young to appreciate the benefit. He has no interest in keeping a large electronic accessory strapped to his head.

My eldest was patient for approximately ten minutes which I am sure felt like hours to him. He begged us once again to turn on a movie. We told him that we would put the movie on after his brother fell asleep. He immediately turned to his brother and said, “go to sleep so that we can watch a movie.”

If my youngest was any older, I am sure that would have been exactly the wrong thing to say to achieve his goal, instead my youngest smiled and pretended to fake sleep, including snoring. Snoring loudly. Then not so loudly.

I turned around. My youngest was sound asleep in his chair. He pretended he was asleep until it became his reality. I handed over the headphones to my eldest and fired up the DVD player. Three out of four of us achieved our goal.

The morale of the story is sometimes you have to fake it to make it. Or in my sons’ example, have your underlings fake it until you make it.

Mark Twain once said that “to succeed in life you need two things: confidence and ignorance.” The ignorance part is easy. We all start out as amateurs. Had I known everything I know now would I have taken the same path? Maybe. I can’t say, but I wouldn’t be the person I am today had I not veered off course or made a mistake or two hundred.

The confidence part is trickier. How can you build up your confidence when you’ve never done something before? Some people take issue with the phrase fake it to make it as the word fake implies that what you are doing is deceitful and or a lie. I understand where they are coming from, but I fear that they may be getting caught up on the literal definition. You should never commit fraud or portray yourself as anything other than authentic, but adults can and should still play make-believe. Like a toddler mimicking the actions of an adult, or older sibling, you have to act in the manner in which you believe a successful person should act. It’s not brainwashing. It’s practice. In this manner you gain experience, which reinforces belief. Belief then fuels confidence. If you can convince yourself that you deserve to succeed, then one day you may just discover that you are no longer pretending.